


The Idiots

by Minutia_R



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 06:37:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7211909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minutia_R/pseuds/Minutia_R
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Siv and Torbjörn review the personnel files of their prospective crew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Idiots

**Author's Note:**

> This is another one I wrote in a tearing hurry (after it had been simmering in the back of my brain for a month or so) so I apologize for the inevitable errors.

When Siv got home, she found Torbjörn in the office, and the kids nowhere.

“I took them over to Otto and Linnea’s for a playdate,” Torbjörn explained.

“And left them there?” said Siv, horrified. “If you had to burn our friendship with the Karlssons, couldn’t you at least have gotten more out of it than a single evening of peace and quiet?”

“It’s just for an hour!” said Torbjörn. “How much trouble could they possibly--”

Siv sank into a chair with a sigh. “ _Don’t_ finish that sentence, please.”

“It’ll be fine,” said Torbjörn. He came up behind her and rubbed her shoulders; she could feel her muscles unknotting under his careful touch. If only there was some way for him to sink his fingers into her brain. “You look exhausted. Why don’t you take tomorrow off?”

“Because I used up all my vacation on the trip to Iceland. And my next vacation is going to have to be to Øresund this winter. And we have to eat, and we didn’t get enough funding to replace my salary. I’ve cut back my hours as far as I can, and it’s not like you need me full-time on the mission anyway. Between you and Taru and Trond, haven’t you got things pretty much under control at this point?”

“Well, yes.” Torbjörn brightened at this expression of confidence in him, so Siv refrained from adding _as under control as this disaster-in-the-making can get, anyway._ “But I do like to get your input. That’s why I got the kids out of the house just now, you know--I want to talk about this packet of military files I just got from Norway.”

“Oh?” said Siv. “The military isn’t going to give us any support independent of the Nordic Council, are they? Even some vehicle upgrades would--”

“No, no, it’s just personnel files. They’re not all Norwegian, of course, but Trond’s been collecting and background-checking them. He’s got … extensive sources of information.”

“Well, that’s why Taru brought him on board. Personnel files?”

Torbjörn grinned and flourished a sheaf of papers. “Are you ready to meet the idiots?”

 _The idiots_ was what they’d been calling their prospective crew, the same way that the techs at the lab called the trolls-in-a-jar _the samples_. It was easier than saying _the people we’re going to send out, probably to their deaths, on an understaffed, under-prepared mission to a world whose dangers we barely understand_. Siv took the papers and started to read.

_Eide, Sigrun_  
_Age: 32_  
_Languages: Norwegian_

As Siv read the file, she started to feel a familiar sinking sensation. Siv was familiar with a whole catalog of sinking sensations, and this particular one was: waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Torbjörn,” she said, “her military record is … really impressive.”

Torbjörn didn’t seem to see what the problem was; he just looked pleased with himself. “I know, right?”

Siv shook her head, flicking through pages. “She’s got a secure post as the captain of a troll-hunting unit in … Dalsnes? Her parents are _generals_ there. What’s someone like this doing signing onto an expedition like ours?”

“Well, I gather she’s some sort of relative or family friend of Trond’s.”

“Ah,” said Siv. “Blackmail.”

“Presumably.” Torbjörn grimaced uncomfortably. “Does it matter?”

“I guess not.” Not compared to the fact that the idiots’ chances of survival had probably just jumped about 50%. Siv flipped to the next file.

_Mikkel Madsen_  
_Age: 34_  
_Languages: Danish, Icelandic_

This file was even thicker than the last one, but whereas Sigrun Eide’s file had been sprinkled with commendations and awards, Mikkel Madsen’s was one long litany of jobs he had been fired from. On one memorable day in 86, he had apparently been dismissed from four different posts in twenty-four hours. Wherever Trond or Taru had dug this guy up from, he was a little more like what Siv had been expecting from their crew.

Still, he was a certified medic, and his record _as_ a medic was … average. He’d run the laundry on one Danish military base, and the mess on another, and he’d managed to keep both of those jobs for over a month, so Siv had to assume basic competence there. Good enough.

_Tuuri Hotakainen_  
_Age: 21_  
_Languages: Finnish, Icelandic, Swedish_  
_Profession: Academic: Skald, Mechanic_  
_Immunity: No_

Siv slammed the file down on the desk so hard that Bosse, sleeping on a stack of papers at the other end, jumped half a meter in the air, landed on the floor, and stalked off, tossing an offended look over his shoulder.

“No,” said Siv. “Absolutely not. We are not sending a non-immune person into the _Silent World_ , what was Taru thinking?”

Torbjörn shifted his feet nervously. “It’s not--she’s not a warrior, you know. She probably won’t ever have to leave the tank. It’s perfectly safe. Where else are we going to find someone who’s a trained skald and a driver and a mechanic and who speaks three languages? Taru says she’s really enthusiastic about the opportunity. Plus, she says if we don’t take Tuuri, there’s no way we’re going to get the other two …”

“Other two?” Siv ran her thumb over the remaining files, and noticed something that she really should have noticed at first. “Torbjörn, there are a total of six files here. We can only afford to pay five crew members. You _know_ this.”

“Well … Taru thinks Onni is a long shot anyway. The file is only there for the sake of completeness. But she’d really like to hire him if she can. He may not be as decorated as Sigrun, but after nine years in the military his record is completely spotless.”

“And we can’t afford to _pay_ him,” Siv repeated.

Torbjörn shrugged. “Look, in the unlikely event they all agree to come--they’re Finns, aren’t they? We could probably pay them in glass beads and trinkets and they wouldn’t know the difference.”

Siv muttered under her breath, but turned back to look at the files of the two other Finns.

_Onni Hotakainen_  
_Age: 27_  
_Languages: Finnish, Icelandic_  
_Profession: Military: Mage_

_Lalli Hotakainen_  
_Age: 19_  
_Languages: Finnish_  
_Profession: Military: Scout, Mage_

“Really?” said Siv. “Mages?”

“It’s probably one of those ceremonial titles,” said Torbjörn. “Anyway, the captain’s Norwegian, remember, so all that magic woo-woo will keep her happy. The point is, their military records are solid. And we definitely need a scout.”

“We need two scouts. And a cat. But one scout is what we’re getting.” Siv set the files aside … and then she saw the last one.

This particular sinking feeling was: _I am going to kill Torbjörn._ Torbjörn was familiar with that one too. He started backing away even as Siv set down the file slowly, gently, on the desk.

“Torbjörn,” she said between clenched teeth. “Our nephew is not an idiot.”

“Sorry,” said Torbjörn, raising his eyebrows, “this _is_ Emil you’re talking about?”

Siv wasn’t going to laugh. It wasn’t funny. “He’s not _disposable!_ ”

“Of course not!” Torbjörn sounded genuinely shocked and hurt. “None of them are. How can you say that? They’re our crew.”

“I’m just being realistic. This is a suicide mission. It was bad enough when he joined the Cleansers--”

“You objected to that, too, didn’t you?” said Torbjörn.

“I just thought he should have taken more time to consider--”

“But it’s been good for him,” Torbjörn went on. “You know it has. He’s in better shape, he’s more confident--he’s still a little lonely, maybe, but he’s not miserable like he was in that school. And this is a great opportunity for him. When he comes back a hero, command is bound to take notice, and--”

“This is the speech you gave him, isn’t it? It’s not going to work on me.” Siv exhaled sharply through her nose. “Fine. You talked to him. I’ll talk to him.”

“Siv,” said Torbjörn pleadingly. “We need someone with his training. And--you know that not everything about this mission is strictly above-board. We need someone we can trust. And there’s no one else--please don’t talk him out of this.”

Siv sighed and squared off the pile of personnel files on the desk. “I’m going to try. But don’t worry too much. He’s a Västerström, isn’t he? I doubt I can.”


End file.
